DANCE WITH THE DEVIL
by Donna McIntosh
Summary: A smokey bar, a leather clad dancer, horny Skinner. Should he or shouldn't he?


Title: DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

Author: Donna McIntosh

Email: X-FILES

Pairing: Skinner/Krycek

Genre: Slash

Rating: NC-17 FRAO

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter but he hardly ever used them so I'm giving them a chance to have a little fun.

Summary: Well you see, there was this little nightclub, with a dancer all in black leather, and Skinner is looking and the dancer is shaking his booty and Skinner's mouth is watering.

DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

Skinner sat in the back booth of Smokey Joe's and watched the dancer in black leather pants gyrate to the music. He hated this place but couldn't deny it's appeal. He shouldn't be here and he knew it. He could easily be recognized, as dark as it was in there, but here he was just the same. There was something about this dancer; long and lean and that tight round butt in that leather; the moves all meant to drive the customers wild and they did.

He reached down and adjusted himself. Damn. He needed to get laid. Tonight! He looked around the small room to see if anyone was watching him but everyone's eyes seemed to be glued to the dancer.

He had hoped to meet someone tonight. Not for any long-term relationship; he wasn't looking for that. He just needed to get laid. Shit! That dancer had better stop running his hands over his ass or half this crowd was going to be on him!

The music ended and the dancer left the small stage. The crowd whooped and yelled their appreciation. Skinner concentrated on his drink trying to decide if he should stick around there or go to another club. Someone slipped into the booth across from him; someone all in black leather.

"You looking for me?" The familiar voice asked.

Skinner nearly choked as he saw Alex Krycek sitting across from him. What should he do? Lie? Bluff? Tell the truth? He took another sip of his drink and tried to gather his thoughts.

"I have a few questions," he said in his most AD-like voice.

"How did you know where to find me?" Krycek asked.

"I have my sources." Skinner lied.

"Whatever your questions are; we can't discuss them here. You want to come in the back?" Krycek asked with a lecherous grin.

"Whatever it takes." Skinner finished off his drink and after adjusting himself in his tight jeans one more time, stood up and followed Krycek into the back. He paid attention and saw about every eye in the place on them. Shit. He'd have to make this look good.

Krycek led the way through the tables, down the dimly lit hall to a back room. He pulled a key out, unlocked the door, flipped on the light and they went in. It was a small but cozy room; king-sized brass bed, table and two chairs; a connecting small bathroom.

"So you doing business out of here now?" Skinner asked trying to keep his voice steady.

"I come here for entertainment purposes; same as you." Krycek said with a smirk as he slouched down in one of the chairs, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Skinner's back stiffened just a little at that but decided he'd better play along and sat down as well. He took a seat at the table, his hands laced together as though in a business meeting.

"You said you had questions?" Krycek said; head tilted to the side and a small grin about his lips.

"I'm not sure this is the place." Skinner's mind couldn't think anything passed that big bed over there and Krycek's long legs encased in leather just a few short inches from him. Close enough to reach out and … He stopped that train of thought right there.

"Why not? A lot of business gets done in places like this."

"I'll just bet!" Skinner tried to think of something to say but he kept remembering that dancer and comparing him to Krycek. Was it Krycek? Alex Krycek Consortium operative, dancing in a gay club? Could it have been him? Skinner cursed himself for not looking more at the dancer's face and less at his leather covered ass and bulge.

"Was that you dancing?" Skinner cleared his throat and asked.

Krycek grinned up at him, "If it was? Are you a dance critic now?"

Shit! He needed to get out of there. Skinner took a deep breath and looked around the room. He had to get his eyes off the leather.

"No; of course not." Skinner squirmed in his chair but refused to adjust himself with Krycek sitting there watching his every move.

"You look a little nervous, Skinner. Surely you've been in places like this before? I mean, in your line of business." Krycek was enjoying Skinner's discomfort. He knew the war that was going on inside Skinner. He had seen it often enough; those struggling with trying to deny the attraction. He let his hand drop casually into his lap and rub the inside of his thigh.

Skinner stood up, turned his back on Krycek, adjusted himself and started pacing. Krycek grinned and thought, "Gets 'em every time."

"Of course I've been in these places before. My job takes me in all sorts of places. You should know that."

"You look good in jeans, Skinner. You should wear them more often. Maybe your agents would be a little more eager to follow your orders."

Skinner was incensed. "I didn't come here to discuss wardrobe, Krycek."

"Then why did you come here?" Krycek asked and got up and walked over to the bed and sat down on the green comforter. "From what I understand from Eddie the bar tender, this isn't your first time here. You come here frequently. You get off on watching or do you like to participate? He wouldn't give me any details." He lay down on the bed, scooting over to the middle.

Skinner knew his secret was out. Now he just needed to get out of there. He could always just deny it if it ever came out. He could always say he was following someone; looking for someone. He turned to look at Krycek and found him with his prosthetic arm up behind his head and his right hand caressing his bulge. He gasped and turned away but his feet wouldn't take him out the door.

"What's the matter, Skinner? Wanna dance with the devil? Here's your chance." He pulled a condom and lube out of the night stand drawer and laid them on top. "I haven't had it in three weeks; how about you?" He loosened the front of his pants and slid his hand down inside.

Skinner stood there, heart pounding, mouth watering. Should he or shouldn't he?

In a heartbeat he was on him; yanking those leather pants down and doing his best to swallow Krycek whole; cock first. Krycek lost it before he hardly knew what hit him and will still dazed while Skinner pulled off his shoes and leather pants and then undressed himself.

Skinner was on top of him then, grinding into him. Krycek opened his mouth to say something but it was immediately filled by Skinner's tongue. Skinner was the one in control here and he wanted to make that perfectly clear. Krycek didn't object. Nor did he object when Skinner pulled his leather vest and shirt off over his head and tossed it.

He was caught up in this now as much as Skinner was.

The passion flared between them as hands and mouths devoured one another; two naked sweaty bodies grinding against one another, the friction leading them to greater heights of pleasure. Just as it got to the point where they couldn't stand it any more; Skinner flipped Krycek over and after taking a moment's pause to prepare, entered him.

A loud groan was heard but it was uncertain who it came from; probably both of them at the same time. The first few strokes were taken slowly, adjusting to position then with firm hands caressing the naked round bottom, Skinner began the steady rhythm.

Krycek moaned beneath him and pressed back with every stroke. Skinner's breath caught in his chest as he upped the speed of his strokes. Hands moved up to grab hips and the rhythm became a blur until he exploded and landed in a heap across Krycek's back.

A few moments later he regained his senses and jumped out of bed as fast as he'd jumped into it. He pulled his clothes on and headed out the door without a backward glance.

"Oh my God!" Skinner said to himself as he sat in his car and fumbled for the keys. "What have I done!"

"Oh my God!" Krycek thought to himself as he dressed. "What have I done!"

Two men grinned to themselves as they drove home that night; each knowing that when and if the time ever presented itself again, they'd dance with the devil in the pale moon light.

THE END


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